Winter's Tender Caress
by ChocolateCarnival
Summary: Every 200 years the Reiou of the Three Worlds is said to walk among the souls of Seireitei in search of a Bride to stand by his side as a rightful Consort. Only, he has never found one worthy enough, one strong enough to withstand his overwhelming presence. This time however, an odd Shinigami Captain, chosen to watch over the Selection Ceremony, seems to captivate his soul. Yaoi
1. Winter's Tender Caress: Part 1

Oh god, I'm so late with an update again! I'm sorry my honeys but I've been busy and this story just started writing itself so I had to do it. There are a few notes here, but I'll get to them in a bit. This is a thank you Gift Fic for** Ichiru deathstrawberry**, who's been helping me by being my muse for my current stories and keeping me in line when I forget to write (which happens far too often these days).

She really wanted a Shiro x Ichigo fic with a Blind!Ichigo. Also, I wanted to explore writing with Ichigo's new form that was revealed in Chapter 555 of the Manga two weeks ago. So there are spoilers if you've not read it yet, or you do not know what he looks like. I'll be posting a picture on my blog that you can go take a look at if you want, or you can use your imagination as I'll be attempting to describe it in detail in this fic.

Anyhow, there are a few notes. This story is a Two-shot, meaning that Part 1 is being posted today, the Introduction to the situation and characters and the lemon and epilogue (Part 2) **will be posted in a few days time**, I promise. Now, there are some other notes. This is an **AU story** that's mixed **with a lot of Canon facts**. I've also taken liberties with my Shiro this time around and twisted the Bleach Universe.

So the **warnings include** (Part 1) **Blind! Ichigo, Reiou! Shiro**, **spoilers** for **Ichigo's look in Chapter 555** and **an abrupt ending to Part 1**. (Part 2**) M/M lemons**, a set **Shirosaki Hichigo x Kurosaki Ichigo** paring, **Angst, Blood Play**, the **somewhat use of an Aphrodisiac** and elements of **Mpreg** in the epilogue.

If any of the warnings have put you off, please do not read any further. I'll not be held responsible for you after this. But for those who are still here, please enjoy. I'll see you at the end of the chapter.

It's all yours, thanks for inspiring this Ichiru deathstrawberry, I really appreciate it and I hope you enjoy and it lives up to your expectations; Part 2 will be much more interisting, I promise:

* * *

**Winter's Tender Caress:**

Gentle flecks of pure white drifted lazily from a partly clouded sky. Blanketing the entirety of the Shiba family mansion and all of Seireitei surrounding it in a tender brush of powdery white that shone iridescently _just_ as the first rays of a dawning sun began to lighten the previous night's darkened sky. A lone figure, bathed in the growing shadows of flowing sunlight, stood solitary proud beneath the drifting touch of falling snow in a traditional Japanese garden. Holding out a white gloved hand to capture the stray drifting flakes with a soft breath of contentment. Shiba Ichigo smiled softly to himself as he internally cursed the layer of fabric that blocked his sense of touch from experiencing the brush of cooling flakes that should have caressed his palm, _before_ pale scarred eyelids fluttered open tentatively to observe the world around him.

There was nothing but pitch blackness that greeted his newly revealed gaze however; his entire world saturated with a toneless, formless existence that stretched into eternity around him but also disappeared into nothingness when his other four senses could stretch no further to perceive his current surroundings. The once beautiful and expressive chocolate brown orbs that he had possessed, were stained milky white from a devastating injury that he had obtained when fighting against the Quincy King in an attempt to stop him and his Shadow Army from penetrating the depths of Seireitei. It had been a near thing those nine days, he thought sadly. Seireitei had almost been levelled by the man's invasion and had Ichigo and the other Captains not been able to stop him before it had been too late, there would be nothing left of Soul Society today.

But their victory had come at a heavy price.

The youngest and fast becoming the strongest member of the Gotei-13 Captains outside of the Soutaichō, had lost his most relied upon sense and more than half of his division that day, five years ago. Five agonizing years that Ichigo could recall he had to relearn how to do things from the beginning, live with his new disability and get over his traumatic stress before he had finally found some peace for his forsaken soul. And after so much hard work; many,_ many_ dark days spent in emotional despair whilst living through even darker nightmares, Shiba Ichigo had finally and rightfully been reinstated as the Juubantai-Taichō a little more than a year ago. And nothing made him more content than he was at the moment. He had his overwhelming strength back, his unshakable will to keep moving forward towards the future _despite_ the darkness that his world was constantly bathed within and a family to protect once more with all his heart.

Sightless eyes were gazing at nothing in particular now, the heir to the Shiba family absently leaning into the caressing touch of soft winds that were tugging playfully at a splay of long orange locks that cascaded in two dragon-like tails down a straightened back. Messy orange bangs falling into sightless eyes to feather teasingly across pinked cheeks, partially concealed his new disability from the world as Ichigo traced his white gloved fingertips against the more indiscernible hilt of Zangetsu's second, smaller blade. The first, much larger, as long as he was tall and darker than the blackest of night, was resting protectively against his back as it remained partially hidden by a thick beige cloak, trimmed in black velvet, that sought to keep away the bite of the early morning's winter chill.

He really loved this specific uniform though, the formal ceremonial clothes of the Shiba family that Ichigo had gazed at in wonder as a child and eventually had gotten the chance to wear several times when he had still possessed his sight. It remained a comforting touch to return to, _something_ that was born of his family more than the duty that his black shihakushō reminded him of. Even now, Ichigo still remembered every fold and stitch in the fabric. He had memorized every colour, burned into his mind the touch of every texture present in the fabric as it brushed his skin, even breathed the lingering scent of fireworks that his family was so well known quite happily as it clung in a sensual tumble of silken creases to his lithe form. And all the artful alterations that had been made when it had been passed down from his father to him, Ichigo had memorized it in several different ways before and after the loss of his sight.

With black geta settled across white tabi clad feet, a white robe tied with a dark green sash beneath his beige cloak and a turquoise patterned cloth that fell across his left shoulder to his knee, Ichigo had been forced to ask his sisters to help him dress early that morning when he realized he would never have been able to do it himself. No matter how embarrassed he had gotten throughout the process. It would have been an impossible task to venture on his own, especially when the uniform relied on far too many detailed executions that required one's sight to complete. They had been far too happy to oblige however, Ichigo noted with a frown at the heaviness that weighed him down now. With a patterned and white scarf, as Yuzu had excitedly told him earlier, settled warmly around his neck; she and Karin had sneakily added a turquoise and gold patterned turban-like bandana around the top of his head before he could have stopped them.

Not that he would truly know, he was just going by hearsay but he was thoroughly stuck with it. Trying to remove it now would only mess up his hair that had taken so long to cut just right and falling down his back neatly without it becoming the messy sprawl of orange that couldn't be tamed even on a good day. He had a feeling that it wouldn't last much longer though, but Ichigo simply didn't have the ability to tell Yuzu to stop when she started on one of her projects to 'help' her Onii-chan look presentable. Everytime that Ichigo shifted now, tilted his head to the side to follow the sounds swirling in rising and falling pitch around him, silky cloth would slide sensually against the back of his neck. Brushing irritably against his skin as he shuddered in annoyance at the strangely pleasant feeling it created within him.

Well, at least they had been made happy that day. Even when he had been the one that had dragged them from their beds long before dawn with an abrupt and odd message that he needed their help to get ready for his formal duty later that day. They had been ecstatic when the orangette had told them he would be wearing the formal ceremonial uniform as the last time they had helped him with it, Ichigo had taken over his father's position temporarily as Heir of the Shiba family and a large celebration had been held afterwards. Lazy old man, Ichigo cursed internally. He hadn't even been eighteen in Shinigami years yet but he had still been forced to take over his father's post as both the Juubantai-Taichō and the family duties he had left behind because Goat-Face had decided to go on an extended vacation in the Human World. _Again_.

Damn it, he was always stuck with this shit and Isshin hadn't been back yet after four years either, but the orangette was not expecting him to return for another twenty at least. Not with the rumours flying around that he had fallen in love with some human woman. Shiba Isshin was whimsical like that, always had been and it was enough to drive Ichigo's grandfather up the walls with sheer frustration. The current Shiba heir had simply left his eldest son to look after his four year younger twin sisters, run an entire Gotei division by himself and dealing with his grandfather's strict discipline that extended throughout the whole of Seireitei and into their family home as well. Leaving Ichigo to sometimes want to run away from it too, just to leave everything behind and escape from all the expectations when it got too much. But he couldn't, not when he had Yuzu and Karin to look after and an entire division looking up to him.

His pride simply wouldn't let him.

Ichigo sighed softly in defeat, black geta shifting cool powdery snow beneath his feet as he tilted his head to the side curiously at the call of morning birds and the wind that brushed icily against his ears. He was listening carefully, extending the depths of his calm reiatsu to search for the unrest that he felt stirring against his skin, a familiar flicker of power pushing against his as Ichigo curled his fingertips more firmly around the smaller Zangetsu's hilt that was sheathed against his right hip. A heady brush of power and unrestrained aura of restlessness exploding across his senses just as another pair of feet landed in the snow next to Ichigo with a soft crunch. The orangette smiled slyly at the sound; someone was trying to scare him again. They were deliberately concealing their familiar reiatsu as Ichigo turned in the direction of his uninvited guest, not needing anything but the being's mere presence to recognize him instantly.

'Good morning, Renji. What're doing up so early? Did Byakuya kick you out of your bed with a silly request or are you running a bet with Yoroichi again to try and sneak up on me?' Ichigo teased playfully, milky white eyes falling shut behind their scarred lids to hide his biggest vulnerability from the world as warm orange locks feathered teasingly against the skin of his cheek and a sudden tired sigh spilled past petal pink lips. He really did _not_ want to face his duty today, Ichigo thought sadly. There was a lingering, uncontainable sorrow swimming through his veins at the reminder that he would not be able to see the magnificence of the Selection Ceremony and the one who would be attending it.

The ceremony happened only every two hundred years, where it would be the first time that Ichigo would attend. And he couldn't even see the splendour that it was said to possess. It was kind of heartbreaking to―.

'_Very_ funny, Shiba-Taichō, but I'm afraid that I'm here on official business. Yamamoto-sama has summoned you to the Inner Temple grounds, he says that you need to come now if the ceremony is to start on time at midday today. You're already late for the morning briefing, so I've been sent to guide you―.' The red head was forced to trail off abruptly however, when Ichigo allowed a small chuckle of amusement to escape his lips. Gloved fingertips falling away from Zangetsu's hilt now that he knew there was no threat as he curled his arms around his waist in search of the warmth that had been draining steadily from his body since he had been standing outside, waiting for one of the servants to come and tell him that it was time to leave. They had probably forgotten, but _no_, the heat of the winter sun wasn't warm enough to spell the time as ten in the morning, so Ichigo wasn't wrong. His grandfather was just overreacting again.

'I'm _not_ late Renji, the sun hasn't even coloured the sky for more than an hour.' Ichigo scoffed. ' And guide me? Ojii-san still doesn't seem to understand that I can find my way around Seireitei better than him, even _without_ my sight. And it's_ Ichigo_, Renji. For how many years have we known each other now? You're practically family.' Taking several steps through crunching snow, Ichigo tugged his bottom lip between his teeth thoughtfully as he heard his friend move to follow behind him. But when Renji reached out to take Ichigo's arm in an attempt to guide him, the orangette flitted out of his grasp with a burst of shunpo and turned away to mask the brush of panic he had felt at his friend's unannounced touch. He had ended up on the wooden bridge stretched over the koi pond instead, gloved fingertips whispering across the comforting touch of his two Zanpactō one last time. Tracing their hilts absently before he turned towards the direction in which he knew he needed to go now that he had re-orientated himself in his family garden with the wooden bridge beneath his feet and his grandfather's overwhelming reiatsu to guide him towards his destination.

'Sorry.' Renji interjected but Ichigo merely waved aside his words with a little frown.

'Not _sorry_, Renji. You may guide me if you can catch up to me in the next few seconds. Other than that, I'll see you at the gala tonight after the Selection Ceremony is over. Look after my sisters please and make sure the kimonos they will be buying later today are not_ too_ expensive. I trust you to look after them in my stead.' With that said, a push of power into the snowy ground later and the orangette disappeared into the distance with a flicker of powerful reiatsu. His shunpo so fast and indiscernible that he was already halfway across Seireitei in several leaps before Renji could even have thought to follow him after his parting words. And even with the heavy ceremonial dress weighing him down, Ichigo still lived up to his inherent and incredible speed.

The Selection Ceremony, Ichigo thought absently. It was a pity that he couldn't see it when he got there, but it was also just a fancy way for the nobles of Soul Society to parade their dressed up daughters to the Reiou. The indiscernible King of the Three Worlds; he was said to walk this plane amongst the Seireitei Nobles every two hundred years in search of a Bride and suitable Consort to stand by his side for eternity. It was considered an honour to be chosen as one of the four Shinigami guards for the ceremony, where only the strongest were chosen and given the chance to stand in the Reiou's presence during that day.

Today Ichigo would be taking his grandfather's place to stand beside his childhood friend Kuchiki Byakuya, his godfathers Kyouraku Shunsui and Ukitake Jyuushiro to provide extra support for the Zero Division when the King finally arrived at midday from the palace. It was shame though, Ichigo had looked forward to this event his whole life, _just_ to glimpse the beauty and presence that _he_ was said to possess. It was even speculated that it was astounding enough to corrupt anyone looking at him that were weak of heart. But now Ichigo would never know, even when he could still feel the purity of one's aura and reiatsu filling his senses, he was going to have to use his mind to paint himself a picture. His imagination and the memories of things as they had been before he had lost his sight, still lived within him, so hopefully he could use it well today.

'Ah, there you are, Ichigo. I was waiting for you. Karin was kind enough to inform me through a Hell Butterfly that you were standing in the snow and ruining your ceremonial dress.' A rumbling baritone scolded suddenly and Ichigo shuddered headily in trepidation at the strict voice, familiar fingertips startling the orangette when they patted the top of his head and brushed his shoulders to dislodge the snowflakes that must have settled across his form unknowingly as Ichigo exhaled shakily through his flinching reaction. The open courtyard of the Inner Temple was echoing softly with the clack of a bamboo water fountain, the running water creating a soothing sound despite the cold that should have frozen over it as Ichigo breathed in pure relief. He was just glad that he had made it here safely, without getting lost this time.

When the powerful presence of the Soutaichō began to move away from him however, Ichigo dutifully followed behind the echoing footsteps as he tried to reorient himself in the vastness that was the Soul Society and Seireitei. He always felt dizzy when he came to a sudden halt after travelling such long distances with shunpo and even now it was no different. It seemed to affect him a lot more now because he couldn't see where he was stopping, he had to guess roughly and use his reiatsu to 'see'. It wasn't so easy as he usually made it look, especially when he swayed uncertainly on his feet at the moment. Forcing himself to halt his progress for a few moments to catch his breath and find his faded equilibrium again. Ichigo sighed in the lingering brush of exhaustion that had been affecting on and off all week. It was―.

'What are you waiting for, Ichigo? Come into the palace, child. There's some warm tea and breakfast waiting for us. Shunsui will be joining us in a moment and Kuchiki-Taichō and Jyuushiro are already here.' Ichigo nodded, his black geta clad feet echoing in a steady rhythm upon the polished wooden floors of the large temple-like palace that was hidden in the depths of the mountains, several kilometres away from Seireitei and far past the edges of Rukongai. This was the sacred, fortified palace that had been constructed especially for the Reiou's private and unusual visits when the whim struck him to walk amongst the residents of Seireitei once more.

'Ichigo? Are you coming?'

'I'm coming, Ojii-san. Just give me a moment to find my bearings again.'

**...**

Silvery smoke tainted with the sweet scent of tobacco, drifted lazily into the atmosphere from a lit golden kiseru that was carved and fashioned after an oriental dragon. The long traditional Japanese pipe, balanced between elegant fingertips topped in long tapering nails of pitch black, was lifted towards equally pale lips thoughtfully as golden eyes set upon a sea of black sclera observed the world of Seireitei covered in snow around him from the small window of his carriage. Golden rings settled upon a ring and forefinger were connected to an array of gold and jewelled bracelets by a thin thread of intricate chain as they curled evocative around his wrist; tinkling softly with every move that his hand made as the Reiou continued to cast his absentminded gaze over one of the worlds that he ruled as the King. Finishing his smoke in relative peace despite the noisy Royal Guard that were spread across the inside and outside of his carriage respectively, the Reiou sighed softly in lingering exasperation.

This almost never happened. Those five were incessantly boisterous with everything that they did, making the pale being wonder (not for the first time) _why_ he had chosen them specifically to protect him and his palace grounds. Ah, but it didn't really matter now, they usually quieted down enough when he got really irritable and Shiro had been fairly annoyed since that morning when he had been woken up from his sleep before dawn, his servants had forced him through the purifying baths and had dressed him up for the Selection Ceremony. It was not something that Shiro enjoyed going through though, because they always picked out something white and black for him to wear even when he wanted something a little more colourful in his life. But apparently that was _not_ allowed for formal ceremonies these days.

He was pale enough himself and with long white locks that tumbled down his back to brush sensually against his hips, Shiro _wanted_ something distinctly different just as much as he wanted to settle the yearning loneliness that stained his monotonous life and heart so relentlessly. That was how the Selection Ceremony had started over a thousand years ago. Where the white haired being had hoped to find a Bride strong enough to withstand his allure and power but remained beautiful enough to stand by his side for eternity. Only, after the last five tedious ceremonies, the Reiou had no such luck in finding a suitable one to keep for himself. They were always far _too_ influenced by his beauty, far _too_ easily corrupted by his power.

He could literally_ feel_ their souls being tainted by impure designs, their thoughts saturated with a thousand ways to extort his power and influence for themselves the instant that he stepped into the ceremonial hall _every_ two hundred years. Today would be no different, Shiro thought sadly, that's why something he had enjoyed doing was becoming a drag to complete. He was tired, he wanted to fall into a hundred-year-sleep again just to settle his undue despair because no one so far had possessed a heart and soul pure enough to be a catalyst for Shiro's darker nature, and they never would. He was sure that no one could 'balance' him out so to say, or possessed the compassionate ability so sooth his yearning need for affection throughout the passage of eternal time.

His soul's makeup was part Hollow, part Shinigami and part Human; all indiscernible beings with indiscernible powers. And considering that he ruled over all Three Worlds rightfully, it was only natural that Shiro should possess traits and abilities from all of the different beings. Making it all the harder for him to find someone suitable enough to stand beside him as a Consort. The Reiou could also choose whichever form he'd like to take, mix them up as much as he wanted but he could never portray himself as a being over twenty or a child under four years old. He was also forced to keep his distinguishing marks of white hair, gold and black eyes and pale skin whenever he changed form. But other than that, Shiro was_ the_ King, he could do whatever he wished and today he had chosen to keep himself in the form of a twenty-year-old Shinigami that was dressed fairly exotically. Especially when it was so thinly to the biting cold winter that was outside.

Not many people knew, but the cold in these realms didn't affect Shiro the same way as it affected them.

Shifting his crossed legs to stretch one out in front of him to lean his elbow against, Shiro shivered softly at the loose silk pants that clung to his hips comfortably and fell teasingly down his legs to brush the tops of his feet. Where a bracelet of red and gold was set around his left ankle and his black nailed bare feet were pressed irritably against the soft, furry interior of the carriage. His tall, lithe form was covered in a tight silk shirt that had long bell sleeves; trimmed in black designs, falling to the tips of his fingers were he to stand later with them resting by his side. And around his head, strangely, his maids had settled and veil of opalescent material that brushed the top of his brow and fell down his back as a way to conceal his long snow white locks from the world.

Besides the few strands of white that fell over his shoulder and the messy bangs that descended into golden eyes, Shiro was concealed fairly flatteringly that morning. His veil kept in place with an intricate gold circlet crown that featured a crescent moon resting upon his forehead and a turquoise jewel that was suspended from a delicate chain to brush against the bridge of his nose annoyingly with every tilt of his head. It created a cooling touch that made the Reiou squirm more than once as it pressed into his skin just below the edges of that veil and Shiro just barely kept himself back from tearing the jewel from his crown in his irritation. Luckily though, he had managed to keep the rest of his transformation easy that day, choosing to forgo the cracked mask with a long tapering horn fused over his left eye, cheek and white brow that he loved to portray so much.

And just because Kirinji had scolded him for potentially terrifying all the Brides later today, he thought with a smirk. He wasn't really bothered though, they would always be attracted to him, whatever form he chose to present himself in. The Reiou was just missing the reassuring weight of his mask though, wanting to feel it return to him. And as he prepared to call it back to him, it was a knowing glower from the healer of the Royal Guard that halted him instead. So Shiro laid his temple against a left palm, leaned his elbow against the carriage window with an annoyed huff and forced himself to turn his attention back to his smoke. It would be time to relight it soon, he noted absently, but he didn't even get to enjoy it for a second round. The carriage coming to a shuddering halt in the Inner Temple's courtyard as Shiro shifted restlessly in his seat. A miasma of silvery smoke drifting sensually from between his parted lips one last time before he closed his sharp golden eyes to collect himself for the arduous task ahead.

Today was not going to be a good day, he could feel its negativity weighing him down already.

With his reiatsu and overwhelming presence locked away with a barrier as to not influence the souls around him, Shiro followed the rose petal strewn pathway towards the ceremonial hall deeper within the large black and white building with long dipping eaves. His senses distinctly aware of the Zero Division as they moved ahead of him and eventually disappeared out of sight; only a flutter of black shihakushō and white haori to be seen as Shiro glided past the open double doors and cast his golden eyed gaze upon the selection of twenty or more people that were already waiting for his arrival. As always, a throne with intricate golden designs and an imposing presence was settled upon a raised dais where a collection of ten to fifteen candidates were kneeling respectfully before it.

Two Shinigami guards were standing behind it, heads bowed to his presence as two others followed a little behind Shiro when he made his way towards his rightful seat. They all eventually stood behind his throne though, concealing their presence but was not completely out of sight as the white haired being eventually sprawled himself lazily across the seat of power. Legs draped over the side, his hand resting absently on his stomach as he reclined his head against the softer cushion of its back; Shiro adopted his more nonchalant outlook on life as he tried not to let his power spill out and overwhelm all the others gathered around him.

The Reiou merely waved his hand nonchalantly with a nod of affirmation, allowing the ceremony to start after the tedious and formal introductions from one of the present families. He didn't need to speak, not today, or to acknowledge their existence that much. He could already see the outcome so the white haired being felt his mind start to drift away from him as each family head presented him his daughter, niece or whatever else relation that they could come up with. So far, Shiro had not sensed a single one worthy enough. They were too weak, already corrupted by his presence as he politely passed them over and back to their families with a shake of his head. And it was because of it, that the Reiou's attention began to drift away from his task and concentrated on all the thrumming brushes of unusual reiatsu around him.

Golden eyes falling upon the two presences that were standing at each side of his throne and a little behind him instead; a small smile traced pale lips softly as he recognized the one standing by his right shoulder. The long brown haired Taichō of the Hachibantai division, Shiro grinned deviously. He had been there for the last three ceremonies as well and as always, he was casting his hungry gaze across the young candidates quite boldly in the King's stead as Shiro scoffed in amusement at the sight. Really now, that man, he would _never_ change. But when golden eyes moved to Kyouraku Shunsui's side, where the old man Yamamoto had always stood for the last thousand years, the white haired being was expecting to be pinned with all knowing beady eyes and a disapproving frown. He was fairly startled to come across a new face instead.

Oh my, now this one he hadn't seen before but he was _instantly_ captivated by the being's appearance and strength of presence. Long flowing orange locks that descended down a straightened back in two dragon like tails; an immaculate uniform of white, dark green, gold and turquoise settled evocatively around his form identified him as a member of the Shiba family. And even with the odd addition of a turban-like bandana of black, turquoise and gold, Shiro could _still_ see the beauty of the Shinigami's tall lithe frame and delicate features. He was perhaps a few inches shorter than the Reiou and there was a perpetual frown settled across tangerine brows, but what Shiro found the most strange was that even under the King's gaze, the Shinigami did not open his eyes that were concealed behind a heady sprawl of messy orange locks.

The white haired King shuddered deeply, something indiscernible beginning to stir inside of him at the orange haired teen's (he couldn't have been more than eighteen) mere presence. Forcing Shiro to stand through a rapidly descending daze; an opalescent veil fluttered evocatively around his white silk clad from as he held up his hand for silence. A frown of intrigue ruffling his brow as he barely paid enough attention to notice his actions had brought the entire Selection Ceremony to a halt. He was stretching out his locked away reiatsu though, seeking to brush it softly against the one that had captured his interest so wholly, leaving the Reiou completely startled when a pure and inherently warm reiatsu pushed back in answer to his call. This was something that others were far too afraid to do, especially with the intensity in which the Shinigami's unsettled power flooded the room around Shiro and left the King to shiver blissfully under its careful, caressing touch.

Oh _shit_...he was getting aroused by its intensity, and it wasn't even charged with pleasure yet.

'Stop for a moment,' Shiro breathed shakily. 'We'll take a break.' But even as he found himself saying this absently, golden eyes never once drifted away from his new found interest as he stepped forward confidently, rose petals like velvet beneath his bare feet. Watching in fascination as the orange haired Shinigami tilted his head to the side, almost as if he were following his movements through sound alone and elegant gloved fingertips rested against the hilt of a Zanpactō that was strapped to his hip. The Reiou blinked in surprise, observing the second, larger, hilt that peeked out from the collar of a warm cloak on the Shinigami's back. That one looked much larger and menacing than the one the orangette was tracing suspiciously now, probably not sure what to make of Shiro's enclosing presence.

Twin Zanpactō _and_ continuous release Zanpactō, Shiro didn't think he'd ever heard of anything more rare and astounding. It was perfect and the closer that he drew, the more flushed and aroused his target was becoming with every delicate brush of the Reiou's power. Another unusual thing for Shiro to note, others usually cowered in absolute fear in his presence. But this being, he was leaning _towards_ Shiro almost as if he were instinctively drawn towards him. He could hear several people yell at him in concern, seeking his attention, even the Zero Division had moved out of the shadows at their King's odd behaviour but the Reiou did not stop, _could_ not stop. He had to _see_, had to _touch_...to _taste_...to _corrupt_ this pure being. He wanted to mark him as his, _bind_ him to his soul irrevocably.

Shiro was_ so_ sure that he had just found his Bride.

A predatory grin spread across pale lips, long black nailed fingertips reaching out to brush tenderly against a flushed cheek as soon as he was close enough. His left hand pushing the black Zanpactō back into its sheath as his target started to draw his sword in surprise. But those cheeks and the happy pulse of warm reiatsu betrayed their master's attraction towards the white haired being's presence; flushing a darker red at Shiro's touch as petal pink lips parted to expel several ragged breaths of strain. Perfect, Shiro thought happily. Sweet scented air rushing across the King's nose and cheeks as his Bride's breaths teased pale skin when he leant forward instinctively.

Only now however, Shiro was able to see the array of deep marring scars that dragged deeply across the orangette's eyes and temples. The sprawl of orange bangs had hidden them well, but Shiro could see them now and the Reiou instantly felt a dark heat of possessiveness creeping into his veins. Who would dare to mar such a beautiful creature? _His_ beautiful Bride? He growled lowly in the rise of his anger, swiping the pad of his thumb apologetically beneath a left eye, the one eye that seemed to have sustained the most damage. He was not bothered about formalities when the orange haired Shinigami eagerly leaned into his touch though, it even caused a rare smile to cross Shiro's lips as tanned fingertips rose to rest over his hand tenderly in askance to the touch. Or to pull it away, Shiro wasn't sure, but the orange haired Shinigami was practically purring beneath his touch. The entire world was fading away from around them as only they themselves existed as the sole focal point. It was _utter_, soothing bliss.

'W-what―.'

'What's your name, Shinigami?' Shiro asked softly, a blue tongue swiping across his lips to moisten their sudden dryness as a heady flush fell away to pale pinked cheeks and the orangette tried to step back at their overwhelmingly close proximity. He was still simultaneously trying to lean into the Reiou's comforting touch though, causing the orangette to stumble in lost coordination as Shiro kept him stable by pressing his palm against a warm chest and curled his ringed right hand around a forearm.

'Shiba I-Ichigo...'

'Ichigo,' Shiro purred deeply, drawing out the name sensually as his chin rested against the top of an orange head and he felt Ichigo's lithe form fall against him for support. Panting breaths rushing teasingly against a pale neck at their new found closeness as Shiro used a single forefinger to tilt the orangette's chin, nudging flushing features upwards so that he could see them more closely. Golden eyes gazing into stubbornly closed eyelids again, long curling black lashes brushing the pad of his thumb as he ran his finger against scarred skin softly. 'Open your eyes, my sweet Ichigo. I want to see them.' He said commandingly; having an urgent need to settle his deeply brewing curiosity inside of him. He had see, had to_ know_...

'B-but, I-I can't...they're...'

'_Open_ them.' The instant that the words left his mouth, pale eyelids and long curling lashes fluttered open at his command. The white haired King feeling his breath stall in his chest painfully as everything in the world came to a stop around him. Everything that had been wrong within him, everything that had felt out place, his yearning loneliness...everything just clicked right back into place deep inside of him. Shiro felt nothing but absolute bliss, and even when he was gazing into sightless milky white eyes. Eyes that could not see him, but tore through his _very_ soul all the same. They displayed such a beautiful array of emotions and compassion that Shiro was left absolutely speechless. His heart hammering against his chest in the rise of his awareness, his world tilting on its side as he nodded to himself one last time. Pulling away fairly reluctantly, Shiro still curled his fingers around an arm to bring the orange haired being closer to his side despite the cry of fear and indignation that left petal pink lips as he waved over his guards.

'Get the carriage.' He said in turn, winding his arms around a thin waist as he tugged the orange haired being towards him and straight against his chest, ignoring the squirming figure for now and the dangerous press of that larger Zanpactō that also pressed against him.

'My Lord? What the hell are you talking about? And doing?! Leave the Shinigami to his duty!' Kirinji interrupted, 'The ceremony is not even halfway done...'

'I'm _done_. I've found my Bride. He's mine, he's perfect...my Ichigo.'

'_E-excuse_ me?! Your Bride?! W-what about my family? I can't just _leave_?! This isn't a joke!' A tentative voice sung darkly suddenly as the smaller frame tried to squirm out of the King's embrace again but Shiro merely rested a long black nailed hand against the side of a tanned neck, tracing the skin there teasingly as the orange haired being fell back against him weightlessly with a small cry of suppressed pleasure; the ceremony hall suddenly alight with outraged whispers and confused attendants as a cacophony of sounds assaulted their hearing from all sides. But Shiro wasn't interested in _them_, he was more interested in dragging more delicious noises from his Ichigo. Dear god, if the teen was reacting to just a bit of Shiro's reiatsu now how would react to _other_ pleasurable sensations? 'I _have_ duties...I c-cannot just come with you. I don't even know you―.' Ichigo continued but Shiro merely hushed him by pressing two ringed fingers against pink lips, slipping them inside a warm wet mouth as he allowed his lips to whisper against the top of an orange head. Chuckling softly when instead of biting down, a warm tongue curled around the pads of his fingers eagerly and sucked against his flesh like a new found treat.

Hn, Ichigo's reactions were way too instinctive...especially for such an innocent soul, Shiro thought darkly. He had definately inherited a portion of Hollow power somewhere in his life.

'They can come to the palace too, beloved. But you're _mine_, Ichigo. I've already decided. Your duties here can be taken over by someone else.'

* * *

Alright, all that I ask is that you please don't kill me for ending it there, Part 2 will be posted in a few days, I promise. Also, **I'm still running PM entries for my Christmas Request List** (a chance for **you** to get a **Gift Fic** from me through the month of December), please have a look at my profile or Blog because there are some restrictions for those who wish to enter it.

Other than that, thank you for reading. I really appreciate it. I'll see you again in a few days, now if you'll excuse me, I'm about to pass out from exhaustion.

Chocolate Carnival


	2. Winter's Tender Caress: Part 2

Ugh, now I'm just about ready to die. This fic turned into such a big project even when I only meant for it to become a one-shot. Anyways, I'm so glad that it's done and I must say I wasn't expecting it become so well liked, so thank you _so_ much for all the lovely reviews I received. It makes me so happy, I'm probably crying with joy by now (before I'll be passing out momentarily).

Right, this is the last of Ichiru deathstrawberry's Gift Fic, I really hope you enjoy as I must confess the lemon in this, I was going to do something totally different but it turned into something else instead, but oh well. I'm happy with it as it is now; I just hope it pleases my readers.

There are **some warnings** for this chapter though: It contains **Yaoi, M/M lemons, a touch of M-preg** in the **epilogue **as there will be children (which was way too much fun to write) and a **Blind!Ichigo**. Sorry, my lemon may not be as good as it usually is as one of my characters had an impaired sense but hopefully the other things I added into it make up for it.

Right, that's all I can think of. Thanks again for helping me Ichiru deathstrawberry, I really appreciate it. So please enjoy. I'll see you at the end of the chapter and don't remember to turn back if any of the warnings have put you off:

* * *

**Winter's Tender Caress:**

It was _warm_, so inherently warm and comforting that Ichigo shivered softly at every caress of flowing water as it brushed teasingly against his skin and pushed little beads of sweat to cling to his forehead irritably. Lapping tenderly against his torso and tanned skin with every shift that he made, Ichigo allowed his newly painted fingertips (black in a reflection to his King's as the servants had told him) to skim the surface of the large purifying bath's water playfully. Allowing the sweetly scented steam and air to curl protectively around his nose and skin, Ichigo absently closed his sightless eyes in pure bliss as sticky strands of orange began to adhere to his forehead and cheeks annoyingly. He didn't like the sensation very much or the overly sweet scent from the bath oils that had been added earlier, but he also noted that it easily elevated his sense of smell and touch to new heights. And coupled with the slow rise of luxurious pleasure that such perfectly heated water created within his soul, Ichigo was fairly content at the moment. Especially as it began to melt away all the tension that he had been feeling since early that morning.

Tenderly soothing away all of his fears, upset and unrest with a brush of heady calm; the orange haired Shinigami allowed the back of his head to rest against the edge of the large bath comfortably. Where Ichigo couldn't stop himself from shuddering deeply in rising contentedness. It was becoming a little overwhelming though, the scent that was curling so provocatively around his nose, it _almost_ smelt like melted chocolate but he tried to push its heady effects into the back of his mind as quickly as possible. In the distance of his surroundings, Ichigo could hear the constant rush of running water from a small waterfall. Where settled all around him was the subtle scent of spring flowers and the cooling brush of open air; reminding him that this was an open air bath...not a closed room. And it was right in the middle of the palace grounds too, just as the Reiou had told him.

Considering that the servants were only allowed to enter here when _he_ permitted them to, Ichigo was fairly safe in his granted privacy for now. And after the dizzying and tiring events of his busy wedding day that morning and the past week that had been instilled within him, he couldn't be more content than where he was at the moment. He _still_ couldn't come to terms with everything that had happened in such a short space of time however, his mind reeling in shock at the touch of surrealism that he experienced whenever his thoughts started to stray towards the past few days. Their mere reminder was enough to cause Ichigo to shudder softly in distress, forcing him to bring up his wet hands to lay them across his scarred eyes in search of his rapidly fading sanity. But it was also to hide the dark flush that was starting to taint his cheeks the more his thoughts ran away from him and forcibly reminded the newly instated Consort just _what_ was expected of him that night.

Eventually allowing his strictly controlled reiatsu to spill out into the room to wind it like a cloak of protection around him, Ichigo trembled uncertainly in the climbing heat that was bubbling across his heart and mind so irrevocably. It was a useless endeavour to steady his rising heartbeat though; he already felt unsettled, afraid of his own _instinctive_ reactions towards the Reiou whenever they were close. But no matter what, Ichigo could not stop himself from _needing_ to be close, to bathe himself in that overwhelming presence that Shiro only ever released when he was in the room with him. And just to _tease_ Ichigo, to_ entice_ him into wanting more, to _arouse_ him both physically and emotionally...the Reiou was a very affectionate and playful being as the orange haired teen had quickly come to realize, something he was not very good at dealing with he had to admit.

Shiro just _loved_ to wind up his new Bride, to comfort him when he had gone too far, Ichigo was close to snapping in frustration or just to capture the orangette up in strong arms, drag him into a warm lap and kept him captive there for hours on end until Ichigo was close to tears at his teasing. No matter how Ichigo had protested and whined against it in the beginning or how he had flushed in sheer mortification, it had only taken a _single_ day for the orange haired Shinigami to submit to the ethereal being's power, will and odd whimsies that were so childlike and playful in nature. For Shiro, the name that only Ichigo was allowed to use now; his official _husband_ since that afternoon, the being had become the centre of Ichigo's entire world in an instant. Where Ichigo craved the touch of his pure, dark reiatsu that seemed to curl and twist so pleasurably around his soul, binding them both together eternally and protecting him whenever he stumbled in emotion or his heart ached with a yearning need he couldn't understand.

And when they touched, just a simple brush of hands, Shiro twined their fingers together intimately in order to guide his Consort around the palace or warm lips whispered across his forehead affectionately, Ichigo felt his heart crumbling in need at the addictive sensations that the Reiou ignited scorchingly through his blood and the depths of his soul every time. It was _insane_ and that voice, it was so _dark_ and _rich_ that it was as if silky chocolate was dripping onto Ichigo's tongue and melting pleasurably through his mouth whenever he heard it. It _always_ sought to consume him whole with its nonchalant sensual and playful lilting tone, but other times it reverberated with such overwhelming power and command that it sent shivers up Ichigo's spine.

It was no wonder that the orangette was being driven up the walls with his growing frustration.

However, the best out of everything that had happened was the sheer consolation, reprieve and neediness that Shiro's mere presence burned deeply into the pit of his stomach everytime that he came within inches of Ichigo's form. It was unlike anything that the orangette had ever experienced in his life before, so much so that Ichigo knew he wouldn't be able to keep his lingering sanity for long; not when he started to depend on Shiro's presence close to him just as much as the Reiou seemed to demand the blind Shinigami's presence by his side eternally. Everytime they were left alone for a bit Ichigo was instantly enveloped in protective power, reiatsu teeming with emotions that promised him nothing but love, comfort and acceptance for eternity...it was―.

'I apologize for interrupting your rest, Heika (1*). But his Majesty, the Reiou is awaiting your presence; I've been sent to get you ready before leading you to the Royal Chambers.' A soothing female voice recounted timidly from the direction of the entranceway, the sudden appearance and press of her barely there reiatsu startling the newly wedded Ichigo out of his trance like daze of swirling thoughts and heating skin. Just barely managing to keep himself from letting out a yelp of surprise, especially because of the sound of that voice and the obvious femininity it carried, the orangette valiantly bit back his violent response as he suddenly felt the back of his head colliding against the edge of bath rather painfully.

'Ow...ow...' He hissed irritably. Rubbing his palm across the back of his head to sooth away the burning ache, Ichigo found himself breathing quite shakily in return. This was something he would never get used to, they _always_ crept up on him and it was usually several of them that insisted on dressing him and no matter how he protested, especially that morning when they had gotten him ready for the wedding ceremony, they would not stop. The young orangette had been put through a new hell with all the sashes, heavy fabrics, silks, kimonos, haoris, obis, veils, jewellery, perfume...he was sure he had lost a little of his head, hell he had barely even been able walk to straight with his geta that day. His ceremonial uniform had nothing on what he had been forced to wear today, but at least his husband had seemed to like it. Something that inexplicably saddened Ichigo the moment that the compliment had left the Shiro's lips. Because in that single earth shattering moment, Ichigo had realized he would never be able to _see_ his King.

The being that was fast becoming the centre of his entire world...

Oh, there may have been several excited descriptions from his sisters, the servants, Shiro himself, but it completely paled in comparison to actually having the ability to see the one his soul was now bound to for the rest of eternity. And then it truly hit the orangette that he had missed his husband's magnificent form, which would have been just as dressed up and astounding as he was said to have looked at the Selection Ceremony, for the second time. It was painful, every day that he was reminded of what had been lost...so deeply painful and heartbreaking―.

'Heika? Are you alright? Do you need some help? Are you too dizzy to stand from the heat?' The timid voice called again, footsteps drawing closer in concern as Ichigo shook his head softly in the negative. He was attempting to conceal his flush from the servant's presence as he mentally prepared himself for the task ahead. Just because he couldn't see_ them_ damn it, did _not_ mean he didn't get embarrassed by their presence. At least they seemed professional, no gossip, no giggles, they simply did their jobs. Something Ichigo was very grateful for but still made him wary of their presence all the same. Rubbing the palm of his left hand across the array of scars that transversed his eyes, the orangette attempted to sooth away the heady sting behind closed eyelids at his brief stint of depressing thoughts. Now was _not_ a good time to be overwhelmed by his darker emotions, Ichigo thought harshly as he eventually forced himself to stand when he felt stable enough to regain his balance.

With his hand gripping the side of head suddenly as it spun in dizzying circles anyways, long orange locks stuck sensually to the water that cascaded in shimmering droplets down his spine and traced teasingly against the curve of his hips. Luckily it was only thirty minutes later that he was dressed, the servant telling him word for word the colour of his garments, the fabric and all the jewellery that had to go with it. Ichigo wanted to curse however, it was way too much! He wanted to whine and yell his frustration, he was just going to bed for heaven's sake, even if it was with his husband for the first time since arriving here. Ichigo shivered softly under the press of a ring being slipped over his left ring finger and several bracelets were set around his wrist in tinkling metal. There was even one that went around his ankle, ringing with a soft bell whenever he moved but before Ichigo could think to stop her, he was startled when very soft material was thrown over damp orange locks and he was sure that a crown was slipped over his head to keep it in place.

The orangette trembled uncertainly at its touch, the silk shirt clinging to his still damp form as it brushed teasingly against his over sensitized flesh and he shifted restlessly against its tightness.

'What're you doing?!' Ichigo yelped in mortification, trying to lift his hand to take off the sprawl of fabric that trailed heavily down his back and the crown that kept it in place but surprisingly strong hands stopped him quite firmly. 'I'm just going to bed, please. A yukata would have sufficed. This is _far_ too complicated, Shiro's not going to be bothered by my dress.' Ichigo whined softly in distress. He was hushed into silence however, when soft fingertips tugged at the soft fabric set over the long sprawl of his orange lock, pulling it so that it brushed softly against his forehead and his orange locks were concealed from the world before she helped him into his geta.

'Please do not remove it, Heika. The Reiou may not be bothered with your night clothes in the future, but for tonight it is your duty to please him. Concealing one's hair behind a veil is customary for the Consort, only the Reiou is allowed to see you in your full form and those of us, _your_ servants, who are in sworn fidelity to never divulge any detail of your appearance to the outside world. If you are unhappy about the opalescent white, I can swap out the veil for turquoise as it matches your sash, but for tonight it stays. Also your crown tells of your position as his rightful Bride, unless you are alone in the Reiou's chambers with him, it stays where it is. It is your rightful status now, others have to be made aware of it too.'

'Now, if there are no more objections, all that's left is to tie the turquoise sash and we're done.' After that scolding Ichigo said nothing more in his defence, it was a useless endeavour in any case. He had found that he been overstepping a lot of the regulations and rules of the palace in the last few days. It was only natural as he was new to everything but the Reiou himself seemed more amused by his actions than frustrated as the attendants, servants and advisors seemed to become when Ichigo did something out of character. He still had a lot to learn but it probably wouldn't matter since there was an eternal stretch of time ahead of him now and with someone by his side to guide him should he get lost, Ichigo's future did not look so bleak and bathed in darkness as it had been for the last five years continually.

With a soft sigh of lingering exhaustion that the bath had settled across his form, Ichigo eventually followed the soft pad of footsteps that walked several steps ahead of him and dutifully guided him by the flicker of her small reiatsu deeper into the Royal Palace. Milky white eyes closed and concealed behind a sprawl of damp orange locks, clenched shut as Ichigo shuddered in heady trepidation. It felt like he was walking to his execution; he was filled with such anxiety and an uncomfortable heat that he was sure had been building in his stomach since earlier as it started to make itself noticeable again. His heartbeat was increasing anxiously with every step that he took towards his new, shared room; the soft fabric of that veil trailing down his back to brush sensually against the skin of his bare arms as Ichigo shuddered at the smooth, silky slide of material when it chased a new sensation of need across his blood.

Ichigo tried very hard to keep the rising flush of embarrassment from blossoming across his cheeks. His mind recounting the expectations of that night over and over again, the orangette valiantly tried to settle his unknown anxiety as he attempted to steady his suddenly uncoordinated footsteps and not to flinch at the resounding noise that his geta clad feet and the small bell was making deafeningly against the polished floors of the palace. All echoing loudly in his ears as it messed up the depths of his perception quite deeply, especially with the vastness that he encountered in the palace.

'I will take my leave now, Heika, I am not allowed further than this. The Reiou is just beyond the door at the end of the corridor, I approximate about twenty steps before you reach it. Welcome to your new home, Your Majesty, and please do not hesitate to call should you need anything more.' And with that, she was gone. Her presence vanishing into thin air as she left a dazed orangette in her wake to find his own way towards his King's chambers. Allowing a shaky sigh to spill from his lips, Ichigo tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as he straightened his shoulders and steeled himself for what was to come.

Curling his reiatsu tightly around his form like a cloak, Ichigo took his first steps forward tentatively. His beloved's reiatsu and overwhelming presence already calling out to him excitedly the instant that the Reiou became aware of Ichigo's presence approaching from the other side of the door.

**...**

Golden eyes set upon a sea of black sclera, fluttered open thoughtfully the instant that he became aware of his Bride's powerful presence on the other side of his chamber's double doors. A slow smirk of anticipation spreading across pale features as a lit golden kiseru was drawn away from pale lips and the white haired being emptied tobacco ashes into a tray with a small tap. Long white locks spilling freely down a straightened back and falling over his shoulders as he leant forward curiously when the doors were opened; Shiro found his breath catching in his throat the moment sharp golden eyes caught sight of the orange haired Shinigami that stepped towards his presence tentatively now. The door swung shut abruptly at a surprised lash of the Reiou's power, the white haired King instantly feeling a dark brush of jealousy igniting within the depths of his heart as he realized someone had taken advantage of his beloved's loss of sight again.

To dress him up so provocatively as this; it was utterly sinful and whoever had decided to expose his beloved's sensual form to those present on the path from the purifying baths to Shiro's chambers, _anyone_ who had caught sight of Ichigo as he was now, were going to be ripped apart by his hands come morning. Dressed up in opalescent white silk shorts that clung tightly to curving hips, barely concealing a pert behind from wandering eyes and long tanned legs that were accentuated by a gold and turquoise ankle bracelet and black geta clad feet; the white haired King could already feel his instincts teeming with the rising _need_ to possess his Bride body, heart and soul. It was utterly astounding and with a tight sleeveless silk shirt in the same white but a Chinese style, moulded to strong shoulders and a perfectly muscled abdomen, Shiro felt as if he was totally losing his mind.

A turquoise sash was tied in a large bow around a thin waist; trailing tails of tumbling colourful silk down the right side of his beloved's form to brush against supple flesh and bare calves as Ichigo took several more unsure steps towards his King. The Reiou shuddered softly at the heady scent that was beginning to make itself known as it swirled into the depths of his chambers and curled an unsettled warmth in his gut. _Shit!_ He probably shouldn't have summoned part of his mask earlier, it had awakened his Hollow instincts much more than he would have liked. Where he found himself responding to this situation with far less self control as golden eyes; one a shimmering gold, the other tainted in red pigment behind a cracked mask with a long tapering horn that was settled over his left eye, eagerly followed the orangette's steps as every second drew their forms closer together.

The jewellery settled upon Ichigo's form, it was all done so tastefully; glittering in the soft light of many lit oil candles that illuminated the Royal Chambers. It was not too much...not too little either and with a wedding ring settled rightfully upon an elegant left hand as already flushed cheeks were bowed away from the Reiou's presence respectfully, Shiro was sure he wouldn't be able to hold onto his strict self control for much longer. Damn it! That crown, the sprawl of that veil in _his_ colours...the white haired being wanted nothing more than to rip it from his beloved's head so that he could card long black nailed fingertips through a sprawl of beautiful orange locks. To _burn_ into his mind the scent that clung to his beloved's skin, to trace the spread of those delectable tanned thighs with the curl of his blue tongue and to dig his teeth into the side of _his_ Ichigo's neck just to hear the cries of utter rapture he would release in response.

He shuddered deeply; rising to his feet from the window seat he had been reclining lazily in, Shiro never once allowed his captivated eyes to stray from his Bride's form.

'Ichigo...Ichigo...' He sang seductively, deepening the desire in his lilting baritone as he instantly noted Ichigo's form freezing several steps away from him in surprise. A veiled head tilting to the side slightly to follow the sound of his voice as Shiro drew closer with distinctive and confident footsteps; a flutter of his own dark blue silk yukata trailing sensually behind his form as he halted mere inches in front of the _one_ being that had consumed his entire soul since he had first caught a glimpse of him. 'My Ichigo...' He breathed with increasing strain. Gently laying the palm of his pale hand against a warm cheek, Shiro tilted his beloved's chin upwards before allowing his lips to whisper against a small intricate circlet that was fashioned after his own before he lifted it upwards. Dragging the sprawl of that veil away from long orange locks irritably before settling the crown back in place, the Reiou tenderly brushed away the sprawl of orange bangs that had fallen into Ichigo's eyes as he dropped the shimmering material on the floor by his feet.

'S-Shiro, I―.'

'Open your eyes, Ichigo. No talking now, I want to see them again. Show me your soul...show me your love...show me your instincts...I want to see _you_, beloved. Do not fear and come to me, _my_ King. Trust me my beloved, my consort...I shall forever look after you.'

The orange haired Shinigami, who had entered an odd trance-like daze since first stepping foot into the Royal Chamber the moment he had felt the touch of his King's overwhelming power prickling his skin; breathed shakily at the echoing reminder of those sweetly purred words. They were resounding deafeningly through his mind, lilting with the sound of a soul deep promise as a deep haze of need began to ignite across tanned skin and Ichigo found himself obeying his beloved's words without any further protest or question. Eagerly leaning into the warm palm that was cupping his cheek; sightless milky white eyes fluttered open at the call of his name once more. They fell half mast quickly however, when warm lips slid sensually over his and a slick tongue parted his lips without warning.

The unexpected and unseen act surprising the orangette so much that a breathy cry was muffled against soft lips and Ichigo gripped desperately at the fabric of Shiro's clothes; bunching the material that felt like watery silk between his fingertips in search of a way to ground himself when the world was suddenly ripped from beneath his feet. He couldn't _ move, _couldn't_ breathe,_ couldn't _think;_ his stolen breath shuddering shakily across his lover's cheeks as Ichigo felt the press of a long tapering horn and cracked mask digging into his cheek and the side of his head rather dangerously. It was back again, Ichigo thought absently; the partial Hollow mask that the Reiou had warned his Consort he loved to portray. Not that Ichigo minded its presence much, the Reiou's powers still baffled him with the way that they worked but by wearing the cracked mask, Ichigo could feel the difference as it made Shiro's reiatsu seem that much more potent and overwhelming to his senses.

The orangette just had to remind himself to be careful not to hurt himself with it as he groaned deeply in rising bliss. It was _not_ fair, all it had taken was a single kiss to drag him into such an unadulterated state of pleasure as Ichigo tentatively twined his tongue with another's that was scorching hot in his mouth and rubbed _so_ pleasurably against his own. The orangette was sure that the rapid rise of his growing arousal was starting to affect his body quite deeply, forcing him to shift uncomfortably with panting breaths as a drawn out moan of enjoyment escape petal pink lips in a whine when Shiro pulled away several long minutes later. A broken string of saliva stuck to his chin headily as Ichigo shuddered softly at the sly fingertips that now passed against the side of his neck. An arm curled around the small of back as strong assured strides began to lead them backwards whilst the tip of curious nose nuzzled the side of his temple in affection.

'Ichigo...my sweet, Ichigo. Your taste is so delectable and your scent, it's so enticing, so _arousing_ that I cannot get enough. I simply cannot control myself around you, beloved. Will you give yourself to me tonight, my Bride? May I drown you in desire, envelope you in absolute and complete rapture, fill your soul with utter completeness?' A deeply seductive voice purred promisingly against the shell of a dainty ear; now flushing red across pale cheeks in embarrassment as the words registered in Ichigo's mind and warm lips pressed slickly against the side of his neck. The small gifted sensation instantly caused Ichigo to arch back with a soft cry of contentment, eventually forcing him to nod his consent to his husband's request when the Reiou repeated his burning question once more.

The orange haired Shinigami abruptly let out a deafening yelp of utter surprise and fear when a warm palm pushed against his chest harshly, leaving the teen to flail against the loss of his balance and his back collided warmly against an unbelievably soft surface several split seconds later. Ichigo was gasping deeply, trying to catch his breath against the rushing adrenalin his unseen fall had instilled within him as he shuddered at the sensation of comfort that chased through his blood when tanned fingertips dug deeply into a luxuriously soft texture that shifted and flowed like fur beneath his fingertips. A stuttering breath of awe left parted petal pink lips, tanned skin trembling in the overwhelming press of double sensation when sly fingertips trailed against the bare flesh of his thigh. Where Ichigo only now realized he had been dressed in shorts that were way too short instead of the long silk pants he had first thought.

But it didn't matter, this material, whatever it was...it felt _so_ good against his bare skin.

'Move back a bit, Ichi. There's still plenty of room on the bed.' Shiro called from somewhere above him, causing Ichigo to obey as he instinctively parted his thighs so that a larger form could settle comfortably between them and the soothing presence of his King could hover warmly over Ichigo's reclining form. Ichigo continued to run his fingertips across the soft surface he now found himself captured on however, shuddering in rising bliss to its supple surface that made him want to pull fistfuls of the material and tug on it until it became burned into his skin. He was breathing heavily, arching his back like a cat when a palm came to rest against his abdomen and warm lips pressed against his crowned forehead soothingly to cool his ragging pleasure. It was insane, it felt_ so_ good that it left Ichigo's mind reeling when a reassuring hand suddenly gripped his and twined their fingers together intimately. The orangette unable to form a word of protest when the hand pinned his to the soft material above his head and a sprawl of long locks brushed teasingly against his cheek as he was sure Shiro's hair had just fallen over his shoulder to surround them like a curtain.

'S-Shi? Shiro...what is this? It's so soft...I can't―.' Ichigo asked with a frown, not able to stop himself from running his fingertips through the inherently warm texture beneath his fingertips as he arched upwards suddenly when sly fingernails dragged teasingly against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Sightless eyes blinking open pleadingly as a cry of utter bliss was tugged from parted lips, Ichigo groaned deeply when sharpened teeth tugged playfully at the shell of his ear. A small titter of mirth staining Ichigo's hearing sweetly as a sly tongue slipped inside his ear canal to cause a deep shudder to chase through Ichigo's already trembling limbs, igniting an odd inside-out sensation within the fast climbing arousal that was curling and twisting so sensually in the pit of his stomach.

'Oh...oh god...'

'It's a present for you. I thought you'd like it, Ichigo.' Shiro purred sensually, cool fingertips slipping beneath the silk of Ichigo's shirt tenderly; untying the bow in a turquoise sash as soft fingertips caressed bare skin and the orangette's toes curled pleasurably as he rested his feet flat against the bed to cradle the Reiou's form closer to him unknowingly. A lingering ring of the bell attached to his ankle staining the air headily around them when the white haired King dragged sharp black nailed fingertips expertly against two hardened nipples, pinching one between a forefinger and thumb as a sheer breathy cry of rapture was tugged from parted petal pink lips.

'You may not be able to see, Ichigo. But you can feel, smell, taste..._hear_, so I'm just playing to your needs, beloved. It is my duty to give you as much pleasure and happiness as possible, just as it is your duty to stand by my side for eternity. I just asked some of the servants to dress the bed with the softest fur they could find in the Three Worlds, to bathe you in the sweetest scent of your favourite treat and to give you whatever is that you wish. You are my beloved, my King, my life now, Ichigo. I will always look after you, all that I ask is that you give me the same courtesy in return.' Ichigo was floored at those words, his breath stolen from his lungs as he felt an overwhelming brush of emotion burning harshly against the backs of his unseeing eyes. It was getting difficult to breathe under the press of his emotions again, tentative fingertips reaching upwards to his beloved, seeking to grant Shiro the same reassurance Ichigo had just received.

'W-why me, Shiro?' Ichigo whispered softly, the uncertain fingertips of his right hand finally finding his lover's form as it trailed against an arm that was resting close to his head. Following the limb upwards to brush against a soft neck until Ichigo could pass feathering fingertips against smooth cheeks and the edges of a cracked mask. 'W-what can I give you, Shi? I'm just a blind Shinigami. A mere child compared to you, my power cannot protect you from danger...I don't understand.' Ichigo noted with a lilt of true despair. His lingering sorrow prompting the orangette to bring up his other hand as he rested one against a smooth cheek just to make sure all this was real. He was tracing a sharp nose softly, following smooth eyelids that fluttered shut at his touch and warm lips that parted softly to trace the pads of his fingers with the tip of a sly tongue.

Ichigo also bravely explored the headily pointed horn of that cracked mask back and forth from the sharp edge at the base to the deadly pointing tip several times. He was startled however when got an odd reaction out of the Reiou from that; the long haired being purring pleasurably in his touch as his overwhelming presence leant into Ichigo's fingers happily and the orangette's lips were forced to part under a tender caress when slick lips slid sensually over his and a brief entanglement of dancing tongues stole his sorrow and upset straight from the depths of his soul and replaced it with ragging and climbing need for rapture again.

'Because you can love unconditionally, Ichigo. I don't need another person protecting me, beloved. I just want you, your soul to be bound to mine for eternity so that I can protect you, my Bride, my King, my most beloved Consort. You are my comfort, Ichigo. My guiding hand when I lose control. That's all that I wanted, and you are powerful enough to stand by my side as an equal so do not sell yourself short. I would not have chosen you otherwise, but enough talk, Ichi, please and stop doing that,' A rumbling voice warned suddenly, warm fingertip capturing the fingers that were tracing a tapering horn so seductively. 'It's sensitive and if you really want me to lose control, then carry on as you are doing now.' Shiro purred dangerously as Ichigo suddenly felt a dark flush burning against his cheeks; a muffled moan passing his lips when sensual silk slid against his torso to expose his quivering flesh to the cool air of the Royal Chambers and a cry of sheer indignation left his lungs when unseen hands slipped his shorts down his thighs without warning.

'Hush, Ichigo. I'll take good care of you, I promise. Just trust me.' Before Ichigo could have voiced his own concerns, to warn his lover that this was his first time, he was forced to drag a sharp gasp into resisting lungs when knowing fingertips curled firmly around the base of his hardened arousal and began to drag a heady pattern of pleasure against his overly sensitized flesh. Up and down, curling and twisting, dragging fingernails...it was all building and tightening the coil of slow burning anticipation that Ichigo had been feeling heatedly for a while now. Chasing it into a _much_ more carnal state as his own black nailed fingertips dug deeply into the luxuriously soft fur beneath him; the orangette found himself rocking into the exploring touch, drowning in the bliss that it gifted him as the Reiou chuckled softly above him.

Ichigo could practically feel the dark smirk curling at soft lips as they pressed to the side of his neck, his arms curling instinctively around the base of pale neck to steady himself just as long tickling locks of white fell forward to splay against his newly exposed flesh. The orange haired Shinigami felt his very breath catching in his throat; his skin so sensitized and heated that he could practically feel every strand that brushed teasingly, _sensually_, across his torso and face. And when a warm forehead fell forward to press reassuring against his, Ichigo twined elegant fingers in hip length locks. Seeking to ground himself to the triple attack of pleasure that Shiro caused when lips teased his for an erotic entanglement of slick tongues once more. Ichigo was startled however, when that same tongue traced his cheek lovingly when they broke apart. The orangette's litany of cries soon silenced as several fingers were slipped deeply into the depths of his mouth.

'This may hurt you a bit, Ichigo. But get them a wet as you can, I'll try to be gentle.' The teen nodded dazedly; milky white eyes fluttering open half-mast as he traced his tongue across warm fingertips one for one. Counting three of them as he slicked them up, Ichigo was sure that he was beginning to lose the last tethers that bound him to reality. It was_ too_ much: the pleasure from Shiro's hand that was curled around his arousal, the sensation and softness beneath his back from the fur...warm kisses peppered across his cheeks. Ichigo was losing his mind little by little and when those warm fingers retracted from his between his lips, trailing wetly against his abdomen before Ichigo's thighs were parted further; he found that he couldn't protest or ask any more questions of his beloved.

It was _impossible_, Ichigo's back arching against the odd sensation of a single finger slipping deeply inside of him as it dragged a low whine from parted lips. And when Shiro took away the pleasure that had been winding and building around a pulsing arousal to ground Ichigo by twining their fingers together instead, it left the orangette to try and move away when one finger became two and then three. They were all opening him up for something bigger, something much more pleasure giving as Ichigo felt tears of frustration start to trail down his temples coldly. The instant that they brushed a deeply pleasurable spot inside of him though, it had Ichigo arching deeply towards the painful stretch that was filling him up. A series of cries tumbling from kiss swollen lips; Ichigo tugged harshly at long locks that he had been told was as white as snow before he licked his suddenly dry lips in distress when those pleasure giving fingers pulled away from him.

'N-no...don't stop...S-Shi...Shiro...more...please...I...' Ichigo cried out desperately, his harsh wailing cry echoing deafeningly into the room when a heady pain shot up his spine and something much larger buried deeply inside of him to replace the white haired King's fingers. The orangette felt his breath catching in his throat, his world shattering to pieces around him when his fingernails clawed against a strong back and a warm forehead fell against shoulder in his lover's sudden strain to control himself. Moist breaths skittered against Ichigo's partially clothed form, brushing against the side of his neck as the Reiou breathed deeply with the strain it took to kept himself as still as possible.

'Shit...you're tight, Ichigo. You're going to shatter me, you need to relax―.'

'H-hurts...it hurts, Shi.' Ichigo whined pitifully, thighs tightening against the hips that came to rest against his in rocking movements as he tried his best to breathe through the overwhelmingly intense sensations that were boiling heatedly through his blood and somehow still chasing up his rising need for completeness. Ichigo was panting headily, his breaths stained with groans of pain as soft lips pressed against his eyelids soothingly. Feeling the older being pushing himself to lean more fully over his form in comfort and protection; the orange haired teen finally allowed his tensed muscles to relax bit by bit under the heady assault as his lover implored him to do.

He didn't know _what_ to feel anymore...the pain or the pleasure...both were such a heady mixture that he could barely contain himself.

'I know...just try to relax, you'll feel better in a moment.' Shiro breathed promisingly and Ichigo found himself cursing freely now, a cry leaving his lungs when that hard length shifted inside of him and brushed against a button of pleasure that had him seeing stars of rapture as a new rush of echoing pleasure exploded through his very being. Ichigo wailed deafeningly, losing his own control as he urged his beloved to move, to give him more, to drown him completely in sensation... The instant that the Reiou gave into his pleading cries, he dragged a series of breathy noises of rapture from petal pink lips where Ichigo was fading into a world that was bathed in nothing but utter bliss. And the sheer completeness he felt, it was _so_ deep and overwhelming that the orangette found himself sobbing softly in relief.

He couldn't hold on, couldn't grasp onto a single thought as his pleasure exploded through the depths of his very soul. Ichigo was moving with Shiro, rocking into his climbing thrusts; seeking the all welcome pinnacle inside of him that he had been trying to reaching for the longest time. The pain was forgotten, the emotions were oh so sweet and when a harsh thrust pressed deeply against his prostate, Ichigo literally felt himself breaking in his lover's arms. His back bowing in a deep, sensual arch; teeth tugged at his bottom lip so hard that blood flooded his mouth...the orangette reached his all welcoming climax in a heady rush.

He was calling out in wailing cries, repeating only his beloved's name as every colour, every sensation he could have thought off exploded through his veins and a deep and dark dizziness began to descend upon the far reaches of his mind. Ichigo had found his home, his heart and the single being the completed him wholly. Nothing could have made him more content and when he heard Shiro's own cry of rapture staining the air in his name, something warm and not entirely uncomfortable painting deeply inside of him. Ichigo welcomed the sensations into him, leaning eagerly towards the protection of Shiro's reiatsu swirling potently and headily in the room around them now.

It was bliss...ambrosia...a home for Ichigo's lost heart and soul.

* * *

**Epilogue: Enveloped In Love**

Several years later, the patter of small feet could be heard echoing softly throughout the far reaches of the Reiōkyū (2*). Two small, childish, hands twined intimately together as the small and indistinguishable forms of two young children made their way hurriedly across twisting corridors of the Family wing in search of their parents comforting presence that lay in the direction of the Royal Chambers. The darkness of the deep night was bathing the entirety of the Reiou's palace in an uncontainable shadow; throwing up haunting brushes of light from the half moon that was peeking in from the many windows and glimmered sharply across polished floors. The first indistinguishable being; quite small and pressed closely to his brother's side, wiped shamefully at the trickle of tears that was trailing like droplets of crystal down his pale cheeks.

Large golden eyes, set upon a sea of black sclera, gazed fearfully up at his twin from behind a sprawl of messy and spiky orange locks. Following the moving form of his brother that was running several steps ahead of him and dragging little Ryuu behind him without mercy; the youngest of the two clutched a warm toy in his hand quite protectively in search of the warmth that was slowly draining from his form with every step that they took towards the chambers that no one was allowed to enter but them and their parents. The spiky white locks of his twin, Ryo-nii, was shimmering near silver beneath the flowing moonlight when the older of the two lead his crying little brother towards their parents room that was situated too far away from their own.

'We mustn't Ryo-nii...' Ryuu cried softly, messy orange locks which he had inherited from his Okaa-sama descending into shy golden eyes as it brushed the tanned skin of his cheeks quite softly with every guilty shake of his head. He was trying valiantly to break free from his brother's grasp, to stop him from going any further towards those large, imposing double doors when he was reminded headily of his father's words earlier that day. 'Otou-sama said that we're not allowed to cry anymore, were turning six next year, Onii-san. If he sees me now he's going to get angry again.' The youngest wailed softly in fear, trembling uncertainly when his older twin's beautiful chocolate brown eyes gazed at him sternly before he shook his head in the negative quite forcefully; long white locks fluttering around his head in a long splay of wavy strands as he enveloped his little brother in a tender embrace instead.

'He won't be, Ryuu. So don't be upset, he was just playing with us. I'm the one that's not allowed to cry remember? I was born to protect you.' Ryo assured softly, small fingers tightening around his brother's hand as he lead his twin down the last the corridor with a small reassuring smile that he only spared for his family. 'Okaa-sama said that we could come to him whenever we wanted, and you're sad, Ryuu. I knew that Ojii-san telling you about Okaa-sama getting injured was going to hurt you. So it's my fault, I should have taken you away earlier. Don't be afraid, we'll both go together.' With those last few words, the eldest held out a pale hand to press it against the large double doors firmly. Seeking to push it open with a brush of his power.

The both of them were startled when it swung open at the first brush of his black nailed fingertips however, chocolate brown eyes widening in surprise when the moonlight bathed form of the father stood on the other side of the opened door quite menacingly. Sheer white locks tumbling down an imposing figure's back, shifted softly with his every move as mature golden eyes gazed down at the ones who had dared to disturb his rest with a little glare before those eyes instantly softened when the Reiou spotted two tiny forms gazing up at him in fright. Shiro sighed softly in defeat, a small frown furrowing his brows as he observed his youngest trying to step away from him when he reached forward to pat his head reassuringly.

'Come inside then, Ryo. Try not to wake your Okaa-sama, he's very tired tonight.' The white haired being warned softly, the words scarcely having left his lips before the small white haired five-year-old was already across the room and onto the large bed that was draped in soft furs and silks where his Okaa-sama was fast asleep. The oldest, momentarily having forgotten his younger brother at the prospect of sleeping next to his 'bearer', left a concerned father to kneel next to his youngest child's side. Ryuu shifted restlessly where he was frozen on the threshold of the Royal Chambers though; refusing to lift his golden eyes to look his father in the eye. He knew that if he did that, he would show the older being the obvious tears that were still trailing down his cheeks with little sniffles of distress.

The youngest twin was startled from his racing thoughts however when a large and infinitely warm hand patted the top of his head, briefly caressing the sensitive cracked mask with a small tapering horn that was settled across Ryuu's left eye in a reflection to his father's mask before the orange haired five-year-old was suddenly tugged against a warm body. Strong arms picking him up reassuringly to cradle him against a strong chest when the Royal Chamber's doors swung shut behind them at a brush of his father's powerful reiatsu. Warm lips pressed against a smooth forehead as Ryuu found himself crying harder at the affectionate touch. Small arms winding strongly around a warm neck as he buried his nose in long white locks that smelled just like his father, a tumble of apologizing words spilling harshly from his lips as he tried to explain himself through his ragging sobs.

He was expecting his father to be angry at him, to scold him for crying and even as he flinched in fear, he found himself being put down onto a soft bed instead. Warm and luxuriously soft blankets pulled over his shivering form as his Otou-sama's arms came back to him seconds later to wind him up protectively and shared half of the large feather pillow with his youngest as well. Shiro cooed soothingly to still his child's distressed tears, warm fingertips never once leaving soft orange locks as he hummed softly to hush the hiccupping sobs that were still staining the late night air a few minutes later.

'Hush now, Ryuu. Why are you crying, hmm? Did my little Dragon Spirit have a nightmare?' The Reiou asked concernedly, brushing his nose teasingly against a smaller one as he moved the both of them closer to where Ryo was already curled up to their Okaa-sama's side and Ichigo shifted sleepily to the middle of the bed so that a long sprawl of orange locks and a warm back could press against Ryuu's soothingly. At the small orangette's tentative nod, Shiro pulled him closer reassuringly as he allowed his reiatsu so spill into the room comfortingly and wound them up in a touch of double comfort when large golden eyes started to drift shut at his child's own exhaustion.

'I won't be angry with you when you come here seeking comfort, Ryuu. Just come inside next time, please. If you stand in the cold air too long you're going to get sick and then you'll make me worry. You're already freezing cold as it is. Try to get some sleep okay, we'll see if we can do something fun tomorrow.'

* * *

1* - Heika – Means 'Your Majesty'

2* - Reiōkyū – Palace of the Reiou

Okay, that's all my notes. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. I tried to keep this one very sweet and heart warming, it is a sort of prelude to my Christmas fics as well. But for now, if you would please leave me a little review, I'd be very happy. It's all done, thank god. Also, my Christmas Request List is still running until the end of November, so please get your entries to me if you wish to enter it.

For those who already entered, thank you so much for taking part. For now though, I'm off for some hot chocolate and a warm bath, I seriously need to relax.

Chocolate Carnival


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